Harry supposed that, all things considered, he would rather have Professor Lupin come and help Professor Snape, rather than bother Mrs Weasley. She had enough to deal with, and more than likely, she'd want to get Harry to talk about what was bothering him.

Unfortunately, it seemed that his current minder was very interested in getting Harry to talk. Lupin kept badgering Harry about details regarding what was going through his mind when he'd tried to...do what he did.

Harry's mind still shied away from the ugly word.

Escaping Lupin didn't stop the questions. This morning, after giving Harry half his breakfast, Snape had been intent on grilling Harry for answers to questions the boy did not want to think about. He didn't want to discuss with his guardian what had happened after he'd been taken back to Privet Drive. Anyway, Snape knew all about it, he'd seen the marks and the examination had apparently told him the rest. Why did he want to talk about it?

Fortunately, Mrs. Cook had knocked at the door, interrupting them. When Snape had headed downstairs to talk to her, Harry fled to his room with Snuffles, escaping the embarrassing conversation. No one had come after him, leaving him to sit and think for a while, with Snuffles to keep him company.

Idly, Harry read the book that someone had left sitting on the bedside table. It was a book of children's stories, and it seemed that it had once belonged to Snape, going by the note in the inside cover. Harry thought it was odd that Snape, of all people, would leave a book of fairy stories lying around.

Still, the stories were oddly comforting. They were new to him, as they were wizarding fairy stories, although some of it seemed familiar. He was well into the fourth one, before he realized that these were the stories Snape had been telling him the other night.

Lupin came up the stairs about lunchtime, "Harry, you need to eat." he said, gently, beckoning. "And, you should know, we're going to Mrs. Cook's for tea, this evening."

"Really? All of us? Professor Snape too?" Harry seriously wasn't sure Snape could stay both polite and awake, for long enough to have tea with the little old lady. Snuffles jumped off the bed as the boy stood up and stretched, carefully putting the book back on the night table.

Lupin nodded, with a little smile on his face.

"Where is Professor Snape?" Harry hadn't heard him come back up to his bedroom, and he didn't think he looked well enough this morning to really be up and around.

"Asleep in the living room."

"Should we wake him to eat, do you think?" Harry asked Lupin, taking a peek into the living room, as he obediently came down for lunch, to make sure Snape was still breathing.

Snape was sitting slouched in the chair with his hands folded across his chest and his head tilted back. Somehow he looked younger than he did when he was teaching class.

"No, I don't think so." the professor shook his head, "He needs the sleep, more than anything else."

Harry nodded his head, following the other man into the kitchen, "Why's he so tired?" Harry asked.

Lupin started putting the makings of sandwiches on the table. He looked up at Harry with haunted eyes, "It's said that the casters of Tribuo Vita experience something very like near-death themselves. They say this spell changes people profoundly. One of the reasons it's almost never done. Madam Pomfrey is very weak, as well, and I understand Professor McGonagal still can't stay awake for more than an hour at a time."

The younger wizard started getting the lunch things out of the cupboard, and putting them on the table. Snape seemed to prefer to keep using the mismatched crockery that was in the kitchen rather than the nice stuff in the dining room. Screwing up his courage to ask what he wouldn't ask Snape, Harry blurted, "Why's he been so...I don't know...weird?"

Lupin, who had been cutting the loaf of bread with his wand, looked up, tilting his head to the side quizzically, "Weird how?"

The boy put the plates down, crossing his arms uncomfortably, he said "Like he sort of..." he stopped, shrugged, "Never mind."

The professor sighed, "I think Professor Snape is very sympathetic to your difficulties, Harry. I think, in his way, he's become fond of you."

It would have to change him pretty bloody profoundly, for that to happen, Harry thought, disbelievingly.

And yet, there was the copy of Tales of Beadle The Bard sitting on his bedside table. A book with, "With love, from Mother," written in a cramped hand that resembled Snape's, on the inside front cover. It had been sitting there, underneath his glasses, when he woke up.

This all gave Harry a lot to think on. It was good to have something that might explain Snape's current, uncharacteristic, behavior.

None of that explained Harry's own behavior. He'd never been like this. No matter what Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia or Dudley had served up, Harry had always been able to hold it together. Since Neville had died, it seemed like everything was coming apart around and inside him. It was highly embarrassing to have Snape witness Harry's continued cracking up.

"I know he was very worried and upset about your attempt at harming yourself." Lupin finished, softly.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, realizing that Madam Pomfrey had been here, and she was apparently just as sick as Snape, "I didn't mean to cause such a problem for everyone."

"I should tell you," the professor caught and held Harry's eyes, "There are some rather serious consequences for this sort of action." He told him darkly, "It really wouldn't do to draw attention to it. I wouldn't mention it to anyone in the Wizarding World."

"Consequences?" Harry asked.

Lupin frowned, "Someone your age could be forcibly confined to St. Mungo's indefinitely."

Harry heard the qualifier "your age", he didn't like to ask what could happen to an adult Wizard. He remembered some of the things that Uncle Vernon used to say they should do about the "Nutters and freaks." He used to say that if someone botched the job of killing themselves, someone ought to hand them the knife to finish the job.

No one would want to hear that the Boy Who Lived was such a pathetic little freak.

"Did...does Dumbledore know?" Harry asked, very quietly.

Lupin went back to cutting the bread, "We, ah, we actually told the Headmaster you'd had something of an accident. Professor Snape felt that we should leave it up to you, what you wanted to tell him." The man avoided Harry's eyes.

Harry felt himself sag with relief. Right now, he didn't know how he felt about the headmaster, so he was relieved that he wasn't going to have to explain this whole fiasco to him. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to Dumbledore next time he saw him, now that he knew for sure that it was he who'd sent him to live with the Dursleys.

Lupin handed Harry the plate with the bread on it and there was another plate with various lunch meats. Harry wondered if they were getting food from Hogwarts now, since he certainly hadn't bought any of this, and it looked a bit fancier than what the corner shops had.

The potions Harry was supposed to take were also on the table. He downed them without comment, then set to eating his lunch.

Neither of them spoke while they were eating. Harry was afraid if he said anything, Lupin would lead the conversation to topics he'd rather not deal with. When he was done, he took his plate to the sink and washed it.

"Why don't you take Snuffles for a walk?" Lupin said suddenly, surprising Harry.

"Can I?" the boy asked, hopefully.

Lupin smiled, "Yes, I think it might do you good." The man turned serious, "However, I don't want you to be gone long. If you are longer than twenty minutes, I will come and fetch you."

Harry nodded, "Yes, sir." He picked up the dog's lead from where it was hanging on a hook by the door. Snuffles gave a whine, and a hopeful little bark, clearly he wanted a walk

Lupin looked sternly at the dog, "I expect you to behave yourself, too." He said to Snuffles.

Harry gave Lupin a half smile, which the man returned, looking a little shamefaced. Apparently, Lupin was a bit like Aunt Marge or Hagrid about animals. Dogs at any rate; Hedwig didn't seem to like him much, but she was often aloof with strangers.

The man had been doing it that morning. When Harry had gotten up, he had walked to the stop of the stairs, where he heard Lupin having a one-sided conversation.

"Get your bloody great nose out of it. I see him." Lupin had said, snappishly. Harry knew he couldn't be talking to Snape, or perhaps the man was a good dueler. Otherwise, Harry was sure that they'd be sending Lupin back to Madam Pomfrey in a bucket, "I'm sure we'll get him, eventually." A pause, "All right, get down. You're getting hair all over me, you shaggy thing." he went on.

The boy crept down the stairs, wincing as the fifth stair creaked. Either Lupin didn't hear it, or he didn't take any notice, because he kept talking, "And, you needn't look at me like that, it's not coming off." Now, his voice sounded full of good humor.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned the corner to see Lupin, his back to the door, putting what looked like a plate of eggs and sausage down for Snuffles and then, put something else on the floor for the dog.

"Good morning, Harry." Lupin had said, turning, clearly hearing him in the hallway. It looked as though he'd been up for some time. He was neatly dressed in a button down shirt and a pair of grey trousers. He seemed less tired than Harry had yet seen him. The man fussily put some parchments into a pile and banished them with a tap of his wand.

When Harry came into the kitchen, he saw that Snuffles had a saucerful of tea he was lapping up. Harry had shaken his head, amused, "My Aunt Marge gives her dogs tea." he said.

Lupin's face turned sort of pink, like he was embarrassed, "Yes, well, my mother always did as well. Habit, I suppose." The man smiled sheepishly. At least he seemed aware it was a little silly to talk to Snuffles like he was a person.

"What was Snuffles trying to catch?" asked Harry, happy to have something to talk about that didn't include his feelings.

"Oh, he saw a rat." shrugged Lupin.

"Ew." Harry said, little horrified. Aunt Petunia would have thrown fits, if there'd been rats in the house on Privet Drive, "We've got rats?"

Lupin had shrugged, "Old house. I'll fetch a Rat-Away charm from Hogwarts. Would you like some breakfast?" he hadn't sounded keen on discussing rats.

Harry had claimed lack of appetite, and Lupin hadn't pressed him. He gave Harry his potions, and then a tray to take up to Snape.

Snape wouldn't let Harry get away with missing breakfast. He'd summoned a second plate and given him half of the food from his own plate.

Lupin may have expected that, though. He'd given Snape a huge portion.

As eager as Harry was to get out of the house, he cautioned Lupin not to shake Snape awake, before he left, not wanting Snape to explode the other man or something.

There was quite a bit more than tea with Mrs. Next Door on Harry's mind, as he and the dog wended their way to the little park at the end of the street.

Harry wondered how Ginny was doing. He'd dropped Ron a note last night, to ask. He had considered calling Hermione (so strange that there was a phone here he was actually allowed to use), but he was afraid he'd start spilling everything that had been happening if he talked to her, so he contented himself with writing her a very bland note, as well. There was no way he was telling her what happened.

He stood under a tree, while Snuffles discreetly did his business behind it. The dog was strangely fastidious that way, liking to go the length of the lead, and go behind something. Perhaps that was another trait of dogs who belonged to wizards.

Both Snape and Lupin kept asking Harry what had been going through his mind. To be honest, Harry wasn't entirely sure, it had seemed like an excellent idea at the time. Harry couldn't even really remember how it had felt, after he kicked the chair away from him, except that it hurt.

He remembered Snape sitting with him, though. That was so strange. He remembered Snape telling him stories and holding his hand, of all things. His guardian must have sat up all night with him, even as ill as Snape was. Every time Harry had drifted towards wakefulness, the man had been there.

That was more than Harry could ever remember having. Even at Hogwarts, he'd never really had an adult who was willing to sit with him like that.

He remembered Aunt Petunia telling Aunt Marge it had been their duty to take Harry. Clearly, Snape viewed the concept differently than she did.

That long scar of Snape's haunted Harry, as well. The graphic evidence that he and the potion's professor had a great deal more in common than either of them had imagined.

Snuffles finished what he was doing, and came back around the tree. He grasped Harry's sleeve gently in his mouth, tugging towards Snape's and whimpering.

"All right, all right." Harry smiled at the dog's antics. He was probably hungry for his dinner, "We'll go back."

Snape and Lupin were having a quiet word in the living room, when Harry and Snuffles got back in. Whatever the conversation was, it sounded intense, but cut off when Snuffles gave a little yip.